Burning the Ships: My Journey to Building Thrum

The past few weeks have been a blur. I got hit with a nasty case of norovirus that knocked me out for several days, which, of course, led to a mountain of backlog at work. I’m sure anyone reading this knows how that story goes.

But today, I want to switch gears and talk about something personal—something that, to me, is incredibly important. I want to explain why, on February 13, 2024, I decided to burn the ships and throw everything I had into building Thrum to solve the problems, leading to the partner ecosystem failing a whopping 9 out of 10 times!

Being able to contribute across the organization, constantly solving new puzzles, building a flywheel that sparks growth and innovation, and connecting people and ideas in valuable ways is exhilarating and rewarding when it works…most of the time, it doesn’t.

So, why am I willing to go into debt, work day and night, make no money, and live on much less than I’ve had in decades?

Because this problem needs a solution...because I’ve researched the issues more thoroughly and from more angles than nearly anyone else in the world...because I want companies to understand the transformative power of an ecosystem-empowered growth organization...because I, along with too many of my colleagues, have been broken by this job, and I don’t want anyone else to go through what I’ve gone through if I can prevent it.

The Breaking Point

Below is a photo of me sitting on the bathroom floor at the headquarters of what may be my final employer. I’ve dealt with skeptical CEOs before, but this was the first time one had bluntly told me during the hiring process, “I don’t believe in partnerships. I don’t think they work.”

The rest of the team seemed solidly pro-partner, especially the hiring executive. So, driven by their enthusiasm—and probably more than a bit of hubris—I took the job, thinking I could show the CEO how transformative a well-built partner ecosystem could be.

Now, let’s pause for a moment and consider how ridiculous that idea was.

I genuinely thought I could be the one to come in and prove a negative, that I could make it all work out the way the “pro-partner” camp wanted… right. And yet, those of us in the partner ecosystem profession fall into this trap all the time.

In this case, I identified areas where I’d gone wrong in the past, owned my shit, and worked hard to approach things differently. I tried to connect with this CEO, speak their language, understand their perspective, and find a way to show them the value of partnerships.

I came armed with data, research, and support from executives and peers. I built and refined an ecosystem strategy that was the most thorough, measurable, and effective plan I’d ever created… and it sat on the CEO’s desk for six months.

Six months of waiting, six months of sitting on the sidelines, unable to make any impact, six months of my team asking, “Any updates?” Six months of constant revision, adjustment, and effort to move forward—six months of wasted time and potential.

Six months later… I broke.

Two days before that photo was taken, after numerous failed attempts to get any part of the strategy approved, I went to the CEO and asked for a sit-down so we could move forward and my team and I could start producing instead of just costing the company money.?

The CEO agreed to a conversation but then proceeded to avoid me for the rest of the week. I had no voice, no purpose, and no direction…I broke.

A Problem That Needed a Solution

A few days later, on February 13, 2024, the company had another round of layoffs (the third of the year), and unsurprisingly, I didn’t make the cut.

I drove to the top of a mountain, stood in the freezing wind, and screamed. I let the brokenness wash over me in waves until I was too exhausted to feel it anymore. Then I stopped, and I made a decision: never again. I would no longer allow myself to be broken. I wouldn’t go back to another company and repeat the same cycle of failure (ninety-fucking-percent!). And I absolutely wasn’t going to let that failure continue without doing something to change it.

February 13, 2024. I didn’t have the solution yet, but I knew the problem. And from nearly two decades of practicing Jiu Jitsu, I knew the best way to attack a problem is to understand it so deeply that you can defend and strike simultaneously.

The Decision to Burn the Ships

Now, almost three-quarters of a year later, my partners and I are on the verge of developing a solution. And it’s only because I burned the ships. I left myself no escape routes and made no contingency plans. I had two options: stay stuck in the same broken cycle or fight to change it. I chose the latter.

Will this work? I genuinely believe it will. I think Thrum is going to have a profound impact on companies and people. But there are no guarantees. And if it doesn’t work, I won’t have any regrets. As I often tell my son before and after competitions, If you know you’ve done everything in your power to succeed, then you’ve done your job. The rest is out of your control.

Fighting to Change the Cycle

Before I wrap this up, there are a few final thoughts I want to share.

First, I’m in awe of the people who have chosen this path. It’s incredibly tough, but they show up, sacrifice, and add value wherever they can, even when that value isn’t recognized. I’ve been in this industry for over a dozen years, and I feel the weight of that sacrifice. Your frustration is mine too.

But it’s not just partner pros who deserve empathy. Executives, especially CEOs, also deserve some understanding. They see so much potential in their ecosystems but struggle to understand the value because it doesn’t fit the traditional, linear business models they’re used to.

It’s not the CEO’s fault that ecosystems don’t align with current business structures. It’s not their fault that, when partner pros explain the value they bring, they don’t believe it. Most of what we do isn’t easy to see, and right now, there’s no reliable way to measure it.

So, yes, CEOs, boards, and other execs don’t get it because they can’t see it. And it’s tough—especially for those focused on strict revenue goals—to appreciate a multi-dimensional, non-linear function that doesn’t pay off immediately and is difficult to scale.

Finally, let me be clear: this isn’t a sob story about my brokenness. I’m not looking for sympathy. I knew exactly what I was getting into. The CEO was upfront about their beliefs. And I made choices to sacrifice in ways no one asked me to (a story for another day). That CEO and that job weren’t all that different from most others—they were just more explicit about it.